


τὸν ἐγὼ περὶ πάντων τῖον ἑταίρων, ἶσον ἐμῇ κεφαλῇ

by Megkips



Category: Fate/Zero
Genre: Archaeology, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5017726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megkips/pseuds/Megkips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waver goes to Greece following some archaeological news, bringing a certain artifact with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	τὸν ἐγὼ περὶ πάντων τῖον ἑταίρων, ἶσον ἐμῇ κεφαλῇ

**Author's Note:**

  * For [failsafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/gifts).



Lunch dates with Reines are a usual occurrence for Waver. They have been ever since Waver took on the title of Lord El-Melloi II, as Reines quickly learned that the best way to talk to Waver about the business of the Archibald family or else Clock Tower politics was to bribe him with free food and minimal taunting. Waver regrets that it works every time, but the food is good, and when Reines is in work mode, she’s not as unpleasant as her constantly-teasing-big-sister schtick is. It’s a more honest, raw side of Reines, all ambition and careful planning, and her mind can be downright brilliant in tackling the politics of magi. Bouncing ideas against it is nothing short of a pleasure, never mind a welcome reprieve from dealing with students and arrogant co-workers.

Today’s lunch topic is the potential change of laws governing Clock Tower entrance exams and how the Archibalds might do well to start a philanthropic cause in creating scholarships. 

“Something to honour Kayneth, perhaps,” Reines suggests, dipping her spoon into her butternut squash soup. “Helping younger generation magi pay for attending Clock Tower. We could make it a full ride scholarship.”

A truly ugly laugh escapes Waver. “Come on, he’d be horrified at the idea. You _know_ how he felt about younger generations--”

“I know, Velvet, I _know_ ,” Reines says tiredly. “You’ve gone on about it for the past two decades. But it demonstrates our family’s and the El-Melloi title’s commitment to helping younger magi succeed, and that _is_ something you promote relentlessly and to the annoyance of others.”

“Maybe we could create two separate awards?” Waver suggests, reaching for his pint glass. “Use the El-Melloi title for a full ride scholarship aimed at younger generations, then put Kayneth’s name on something that’s--” He stops as a little _ding!_ sounds from inside his suit jacket. “Pardon, that’s an alert of some sort.”

Reines flaps a dismissive hand that informs Waver _by all means_. Waver reaches into his pocket for his phone, slides it to unlock, and reads over the alert carefully.

_**Greek tomb was 'for Alexander the Great's friend Hephaestion’** _

_**The archaeologist investigating an ancient Greek tomb from the era of Alexander the Great has suggested it was a funeral shrine for his closest friend Hephaestion.** _

_Greeks have been enthralled for months by the mystery surrounding the Amphipolis monument._  
Now Katerina Peristeri has revealed that fragmentary inscriptions link the tomb to Hephaestion.  
Hephaestion died less than a year before the Macedonian leader.  
After his death in 325BC, Alexander was said to have ordered that shrines be constructed throughout the empire. 

_**Monogram**  
Ms Peristeri's team believe the site at Amphipolis may have been designed by one of two architects, Dinocrates or Stesicrates, and built by Antigonus, another of Alexander's generals._

_They also believe that tiny inscriptions found at the site show Hephaestion's monogram (two initials from his name)._

Waver stares down at his iPhone, barely realizing that his hand is shaking. Somewhere, distantly, he thinks he says, _“oh my God_ ,” but no part of him is sure. Waver keeps scrolling, drinking the article in, until he’s finished it and placed the phone down on the table. 

“Reines, I need to go to Greece.”

“ _Beg pardon?_ ” is the response, her eyes boggled. Promptly, her hand reaches across the table, demanding Waver’s phone. “What on Earth has happened that you feel so compelled to go down there?”

Waver doesn’t explain. He simply passes the phone over to Reines, and lets her read. He isn’t surprised as her eyebrows inch closer together, or at the sigh that he’s given as Reines returns the phone. “Velvet,” Reines says, exhausted but not chiding. “Do you even have the vacation days at Clock Tower for it?”

“Of course,” Waver says, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

“And you’re going to what,” Reines continues. “Just sneak into an archaeological site because it _might_ be the tomb of someone who was close to someone you magically sum--”

“Yes,” Waver says quickly. 

Reines clicks her tongue. “Clearly I’m not going to stop you,” she says, dry as desert air. The _I know better than to try_ goes unsaid. “But I’m not posting bail if your magecraft fails and you get caught by the Greek police. They’ll think you’re some kind of antiquities trafficker, I’m _sure._ ”

“I’ll be fine,” Waver promises. “And I’ll fly down on Thursday night next week, and be back by the 11th. That way I only burn one vacation day, and you can rest easy.”

“Excellent. Now, if you’re done with that, may we return to our original topic at hand?” Reines asks, reaching for her own pint glass. “The scholarships. The one with Kayneth’s name on it. Maybe it should be research-based?”

“If not for research, then something for students in the evocation department.”

“ _Hm._ ”

***

The Amphipolis excavation site rises in the middle of the road, a mound of dirt guarded by a stern yellow sign with a red circle that makes it clear that no unauthorized entry is permitted. Waver hums cheerfully as he goes past the sign in his crappy little grey rental car, unnoticed. He’s cloaked the whole vehicle in magecraft so that no one without a magic crest on them can notice the car, and that’s over another layer of spellcraft that does the same for his person. Waver doesn’t exist in the world right now, not really, and it pleases him greatly to know his craft is working as he drives up around and around the site.

There are cars parked all along the slope that leads up to the dig, belonging to various team members. Waver makes a point to ensure he’s parked at the end of the road that snakes up to the top of the mound, in case his spell fails. Once he’s parked, he reaches into the glove compartment, pulls out a little silver box, closes the compartment up, then climbs out of the car. 

Slowly, steadily, Waver hikes up the road, glad for the cool October weather. Oh, the sun’s plenty bright and it’s still quite hot, making his great red coat unseasonably warm, but it is nowhere near as bad as it could be if he was visiting in July or August. It was one of the precious few issues he had with where Rider decided to walk in life. It was _always_ too damn hot to visit.

Once up the mound, Waver walks past the setups of the archaeological team, careful not to bump into anyone or anything. There are tables everywhere, covered with tools, recent finds, maps, and all sorts of raw data to be looked over and examined. The people there are busy, hurrying here, there, everywhere, and Waver drinks it all in. The air is one of tense excitement, the recent news and suggestions that this might have a truly deep connection to Iska-- Alexander sending everyone into overdrive.

Waver can hardly blame them.

He lingers over the tables, looking at maps when no one is in the immediate area, moving out of the way just in time when need be. The whole effect is like that of being a ghost, ignored and forgotten by the world, but still very present.

After Waver’s certain he has the layout of the place down, he begins to make his way towards the tomb entrance. The sphinxes that sit at the top of the entrance are even more impressive than they are in the photos he’s seen online, and for a moment, Waver stops and simply looks up. They’ve stood silent guard over this place for centuries, undisturbed, and now the whole world knows them because of who they might protect.

He smiles up at them, and then walks inside.

As Waver moves into the tomb proper, he takes great care not to trip over the uneven ground, and takes care not to brush against the scaffolding that the archaeologists have set up. The lights are still on, and the archaeologists working don’t seem to notice him. It means the magecraft’s still working.

He goes past the mosaics, resplendent in their dark blues and pale pearls making up Hermes, the horse and his rider, another portion showing Persephone. He stops in front of each, taking in their beauty, knowing that he’s one of the few people outside of the archaeological team to see these works of art. Waver knows, from all of the books he’s read on archaeology in his spare time in case he might ever find another item belonging to Rider, that their brilliant hues won’t last very long. Discovery and exposure to air causes damage and fading, even if the tomb is kept dark after excavation. The case in Waver’s hand is starting to grow heavy now, thanks to the combination of the box being made of pure silver and the sheer number of spells it’s covered in. They’re all there to maintain precise climate control and to ensure that the fabric won’t deteriorate over time. It’s the only scrap in the world left. It isn’t permitted to fall victim to the ravages of time as the rest of the cloak has.

The weight is a reminder to get on with his purpose in coming to the excavation site in the first place, and so with all of his observing and admiring for the rest of the place done, Waver walks to where the discovered tomb is. The bones that were there were cleared out long ago, he knows that. He remembers reading the news about their discovery last year, and the more recent BBC article had reminded him of the basics. Five people. One elderly woman. A new born. Two men. One other person who they hadn’t made any determination about. 

Waver feels his knees crack as he crouches down beside the tomb - a sure sign of old age. It’s just rock resting atop a gravesite now, and it’s with all the care in the world that he places the precious silver box that holds Rider’s cape down atop the tomb. 

“Ah, right,” Waver chides himself, carefully flipping the top of the box open.

The red shines too brightly in the tomb, and for a single, mad moment, Waver thinks it’s the sign of a summons. But the shine is an illusion, or a spark of his own prana mixing with the air, and it fades within moments. No archaeologist notices it. The tomb remains inert. And yet.

And yet.

The fabric scrap looks right, sitting above the tomb. Not out of any aesthetic consideration, no, it looks downright bizarre to have a random silver box with fabric in it sitting atop a just excavated tomb. But there’s an energy to the whole excavation site that seems to be in harmony with the same sensation Waver feels whenever he lifts that precious box into his hand. A constant thrum, like the footsteps of an army. Like the beating of Rider’s heart as he charged against Archer. The same spirit of determination. It buzzes off the walls, and a part of Waver knows he’s projecting. That he must be projecting, because no one else on earth could even know what Rider’s energy, what Rider’s army’s energy, is like.

Waver breathes out, and forces himself to pay attention to the fabric and to the tomb. He’s here on their behalf, not his own. So he watches the fabric sit atop the tomb in silence, looking up every so often to ensure he won’t be tripped over.

Time passes around Waver, but there’s no desire in him to move. How long have the bones that belonged in this tomb been away from that cape? How cruel is it to part one from the other after only ten minutes? After an hour? After two?

He leaves only when the archaeologists begin to speak of closing up for the day, of sleeping, of preparing for tomorrow’s excavation. They begin to pack up, and Waver leans forward to reclaim the silver box. His fingers linger on the lid.

“I’ll bring you back soon,” he promises, to the fabric and to the tomb. “If not here, then to wherever his bones end up.”

With that, Waver flicks his finger, and the lid closes on the fabric. The box is returned to Waver’s hands, and he rises slowly from his spot on the ground. Waver pauses just long enough to dust off the bottom of his jeans and his own Admirable Conquest t-shirt, aware of how much dirt has collected on both since he’s sat down, and then heads out. Again no one notices him, and Waver walks out into the evening light, undetected. People are scattering now, off to eat and discuss the finds of the day, and it leaves Waver standing alone halfway between the tomb’s entrance and the retaining walls. His eyes move from the fading sun to where the great sphinxes stand guard over the tomb, bathed in faint orange.

“Assuming that this was your decision,” Waver says to the box, running his fingers over it. “You picked a very nice resting place for him.”

The box’s energy hums, and Waver smiles at the sensation.

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, Happy Halloween, Failsafe! When I saw your prompt for Waver going through tribute and dealing with Rider’s death, I remember this excellent piece of archaeological news and I thought they’d go quite nicely together. I think this counts as a rather bittersweet treat, and I hope you like it!
> 
> Secondly, thank you to my beta, S. and to Mara for opinions and help with the title.
> 
> The title is from the Iliad, book 18 lines 81-82, as Achilles describes Patroclus as the person “whom I loved beyond all other companions, as well as my own life.” 
> 
> Canonically, Waver is shown to have Rider’s cloak scrap in Fate/strange fake. I assume this is true for all other versions of canon too. Reines, Kayneth’s heir, has only shown up in the Lord El-Melloi II Case Files and Fate/apocrypha. 
> 
> The BBC article text is taken from here
> 
> Photos of the tomb are available at the archaeological dig’s [official website here.](http://www.amfipolis.com/amphipolis-tomb/%20)
> 
> Obviously, don’t do what Waver does here and sneak into archaeological sites please. Doing so is illegal, and taking items from there is even more illegal!


End file.
